Catalyst
by DieZeitVergeht
Summary: Everything is caused by a catalyst. Everything reacts in correlation to something else. And most times, you'll never know what's going to happen. (Bechloe, implied Aubrey/Jesse; Future fic)


**Title**: Catalyst

**Pairing**: Bechloe (Implied Aubrey/Jesse)

**Summary**: Everything is caused by a catalyst. Everything reacts in correlation to something else. And most times, you'll never know what's going to happen.

_**A/n**: I have a million other things to be working on…but say hello the the little bug nagging at my head. Hopefully I'll finish this out too. Click the read more!_(Warning: this isn't butterflies and rainbows…it's sorta sad..)

/

Your life has always been pretty good. Or, at least you thought it's always been good. You're twenty-seven now. You've finally become a full-time high school English teacher this past fall. You've had a girlfriend for four years now and you're supposed to be getting married next month, after school lets out for the summer. And you've found out that you're pregnant at the doctor's appointment you had that morning.

You definitely don't have anything to complain about.

Your life is going exactly how you've planned so far.

You're planning on telling Beca the news of the IUI procedure finally taking, after almost a year of trying, tonight at dinner when she gets home from the station.

You and Beca are meeting with Aubrey to go over the choices she has set up for your wedding cake this coming weekend.

You have your classes to teach, papers to grade, your wedding to plan, your baby to plan for, and your honeymoon to make reservations for, among countless other daily things.

There isn't enough time in your life for things to go wrong.

You're not saying your life is perfect though. Whose life actually meets the true definition of perfection?

Take this very morning for instance.

You woke up to the sound of your alarm, wrapped in the small arms of your fiancée. As much as you wanted to lay in bed and revel in the comfort of her arms, you knew Beca was late. Because three mornings out of the five day week, you've become accustomed to waking up with Beca already out of the house.

She groaned as you pushed her out of bed and practically into the shower. On her way out the door you stole a kiss and watched her leave with your parting "I love you's."

And even later, about an hour after Beca left and you were half way to the doctor's office, you realize she left her lunch at home on the counter. At the time you saw it, you made a mental note to leave early enough to give it to her. But now was too late.

By the time you wanted to make the decision to go back and drive it to her, you knew you'd be late to your doctor's appointment so you just hoped she'd get something from the place down the street from the station instead.

But that's just life.

Life is full of mistakes and accidents.

/

Today's lesson for your two senior English classes is one you're most excited for. You're reading Flannery O'Connor. She's been one of your favorite authors ever since your sophomore year literature class in college.

You don't really think there will ever be a time where you stop liking "A Good Man is Hard to Find." It's a masterpiece of the southern grotesque. It's a masterpiece of the gothic. It's a masterpiece of American Literature at its finest.

The message you learned from your college professor is one you'll probably never forget.

Everything in life has a catalyst. It doesn't have to be good and it doesn't have to be bad either. But everything acts in correlation to something else.

Do you ever really know what a catalyst is though, until you've experienced the reaction?

You're prepping your notes and papers for your afternoon classes, when your second senior English class enters the room one-by-one or in groups. Their pre-class assignment is on the board and you can't help the small smile when you see your students get right too their work. It took a while at the beginning of the year, but by the week before your winter break, you noticed the teens getting more and more used to the (usually) quirky assignment you set.

It's every day like this, that you realize how respected a teacher you've become at this school. You never expected to be one of the most popular among the student body. And you're even well-liked within the staff too, even though you're the newest addition.

Beca blames your bubbly demeanor. The very same that she fell in love with.

You can't help it though, you've always been outgoing. You've never really had a problem talking to new people. But then Beca loves reminding you about the shower incident from time to time.

Anyway, you allot the first ten minutes of class to your pre-assignment. By now, most of the students don't even need that full amount of time, but you still give it.

You're sitting at your desk, waiting for the few stragglers to finish, scanning over the students who are here and taking your attendance, marking down the names of the students who aren't here. You're pleasantly surprised that none of your students are absent today.

A glance to the clock you see you've still two minutes remaining.

And that's when your phone starts going off. You can hear the vibrations buzzing at the bottom of your desk drawer. You know it's unprofessional to answer your phone during class and you've made it your responsibility to abide by that rule.

As the buzzing stops, a thought at the back of your mind is telling you that maybe the call was important, because you've told your closest friends and your family that they should only call if it's an emergency and for nothing else.

You're just getting up to start class, when your phone goes off again.

Your students have realized now and one even states that you should probably get it. After all, you do allow your students a free pass when it comes to using cell phones during class (despite the fact that it's an automatic write-up in the school's student handbook).

So you tell your class to re-read "A Good Man is Hard to Find," which was their homework for today, and pull open your drawer to extract your phone.

To say you're confused when you see that Aubrey is calling you would be an understatement. She works at the school too as one of the History/Economics teachers (she's one of the main reasons you were able to get this job) and she's supposed to be teaching her own class now too.

"Aub? Don't you have a class right now?" you ask after pressing the answer button and sitting down in your desk chair again.

"Th-that's not important right now, Chlo." Her voice is different. You know she's been crying.

"What's wrong?" Your voice is low and you realize now that maybe you should have gone out into the hallway instead of staying in the classroom where all your students can hear.

You're getting up and starting to walk to the door when she answers you with a shaky voice. "There's…Chlo…there's been an a-accident."

Your heart is racing, you've barely made it to the end of your desk, but you still hastily grab at the edge to stabilize yourself because you can feel your knees giving out. At this point you're pretty you're your class has stopped reading.

You can't lift your head though. You can't really focus on anything to be frank. It's taking all of your strength just to keep you upright.

Bits and pieces of what Aubrey's saying barely makes it passed the rush of blood running rampant in your head. "Jesse and Beca…lunch…ran a red light… at the hospital…critical condition…"

The sound of Beca's name in conjunction with 'critical condition' and 'hospital' sends you to the floor, your back leaning on your desk. You haven't noticed the tears rolling down your cheeks, let alone that they had started to build up in the first place.

You've dropped your phone and you hardly register Aubrey calling out your name. By now a few of your students have started crowding around you. One of them takes your phone and you faintly hear, "Mrs. Swanson? Miss Beale collapsed…yes, she's awake…no, I don't think she hit her head on something…yeah, I'll tell her…"

You're at the point where nothing is even getting through to your head anymore.

Your students are trying to make sure you're okay. The boy who picked up your phone tells you that Aubrey has sent someone to take you to the hospital.

You hear everything they're saying. But you don't _hear_ it.

The words are bouncing off your head; they don't even make it through your ears. There's only one thought running around your head. It's taken up residence and won't let anything else in. It's torturing you and you want it gone.

But the second you stop thinking about her, she'll die. So you can't stop thinking about Beca and how she's dying right now.

/

_Don't worry, I'm hoping to continue...need your opinions though._

_A) Beca dies?_  
_B) Beca lives?_  
_C) Beca lives, but there's serious complications._  
_D) Other (what do you want to see?)_


End file.
